


Slap On a Smile

by arigatou_sunshine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Dean, Fingerfucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arigatou_sunshine/pseuds/arigatou_sunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dean has to do is keep his eyes open. (Season 9 bunker!Fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slap On a Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destielicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielicious/gifts).



Dean is bent over the side of his bed, face mashed into the memory foam mattress while Castiel works him open with slick, clever fingers. They've been at this for nearly twenty minutes, Dean is definitely open enough for Castiel to get started, but sometimes the former angel gets a little carried away. Dean's mostly okay with it, but he would like to get fucked sometime this week.

 

"Come on," Dean pants, rubbing his dick against the side of the bed, "get on with it. You're killing me here." Castiel noses at the back of Dean's neck, lapping at the sweat gathering there.

 

"You'll live," Castiel murmurs. There's a large mirror on the other side of the bed, leaning against the wall. The frame is gorgeous, rich mahogany carved into ornate swirls. It's been there for a week, Dean hasn't figured out where he wants to put it yet. Right now he can see the two of them in it perfectly, can see the hungry look on Castiel's face. He hadn't thought about it while Castiel was manhandling him into position, but he realizes now the location choice was probably intentional.

 

Castiel bites down on the back of Dean's neck at the same time his fingers push against Dean's prostate, and Dean jerks awkwardly and lets out a strangled cry.

 

"Fuck," Dean pants into the bed.

 

"Very well," Castiel says, and he sounds smug to Dean's ears. Dean's fingers flex impatiently against the bedspread. In the mirror he can see Castiel's arms moving, and he hears the lid of the lube bottle pop open, then the sounds of slick skin on skin.

 

"Are you almo--urk!!" Dean makes a truly embarrassing noise once Castiel pushes in, not stopping until his hips have smacked against Dean's ass. He wastes no time in setting up a hard rhythm that has Dean clenching his eyes shut in bliss.

 

He’s lost in the feel of Castiel hammering into him when the movement suddenly stops, and Castiel pulls out.

 

“Dude, that’s not cool,” Dean grouses. Castiel leans forward, kissing Dean’s back gently. Dean can feel the head of Castiel’s dick rubbing against his hole and he wants it back inside right the fuck now.

 

“I want you to try something,” Castiel says in between kisses on Dean’s shoulder. Dean nods impatiently.

 

“Sure, whatever you want, just get back to it,” Dean huffs back. Castiel trails two soothing hands down Dean’s sides until he’s gripping Dean’s ass, digging his fingers in. Dean moans appreciatively.

 

“I want you to keep your eyes open, on us. Keep watching the mirror,” Castiel says. His voice is soft, but Dean can hear the command in it and it makes his dick twitch painfully.

 

“Okay, I can do that,” Dean promises. Castiel hums in approval, pushing his way back in and setting up the same rough pace. Dean keeps his eyes on the mirror. Looking at his own face is embarrassing. His eyes are hooded, his cheeks are flushed, his mouth keeps dropping open. He looks sort of ridiculous, so he looks at Castiel instead. Castiel looks the same as Dean, and yet totally different. His eyes are hooded as well, face slightly red, lips parted, but instead of looking stupefied like Dean, he looks _focused_. He looks powerful and in control.

 

They lock eyes, and Dean feels a surge of adrenaline rushing through his body at the intensity in Castiel’s gaze. It’s too much, it’s too much to deal with staring into those eyes, and Dean’s own eyes flutter closed.

 

Castiel stops and pulls out.

 

Dean turns his head and stares at Castiel indignantly. “Dude, what the hell?” he barks. He gets a little rude when he’s being denied, so sue him.

 

“I did tell you to keep your eyes open Dean,” Castiel says. Before Dean even knows what’s happening, Castiel’s hand is slapping down on his ass. Five swats on Dean’s right ass cheek, and Castiel doesn’t hold anything back. It stings like a bitch, and Dean is completely thrown by the behavior. Before Dean can even decide how he wants to respond though, Castiel is shoving his dick back inside, gesturing with his head toward the mirror. Dean narrows his eyes but obeys, looking back to the mirror. Castiel goes back to fucking Dean like he paid for the privilege, and Dean is taken aback by the uncharacteristic smirk on his face. The angle is slightly different this time around, and Dean can feel an occasional pressure against his prostate that’s making his toes curl.

 

“Fuck, Cas, just like that,” Dean moans. Castiel pulls out again. Fuck. Dean hadn’t even realized he'd closed his eyes this time. Castiel wastes no time, slapping Dean’s ass five times hard, this time on the left cheek. Dean’s a little less bewildered this time, the sting feels better, Dean finds he likes the sensation.

 

“Eyes on the mirror, Dean,” Castiel growls gently. Dean nods, and looks back at the two of them. Dean’s entire body seems a shade redder, but he can’t see his ass from this angle. He kind of wants to see the handprints Castiel surely left behind. Castiel fucks back into him and Dean groans, but keeps his eyes on the two of them.

 

Castiel is like a machine, dick pistoning in and out of Dean’s ass with no signs of slowing down. Dean glares a bit when Castiel closes his eyes and moans on a particularly hard shove. So _he_ gets to close his eyes apparently.

 

A handful of minutes pass, Dean is sweating and flushed, and Castiel is fucking magnificent in his determination to fuck Dean’s brains out. Dean is getting better at keeping his eyes on them, even when Castiel’s dick bangs against his prostate, even when Castiel reaches forward and grabs Dean’s dick to give him a few strokes. The sting on his ass is already calming, and Dean realizes he misses it.

 

He wants the sting back.

 

He looks Castiel right in the eyes, and very deliberately closes his own. Judging by the way Castiel shudders and moans, he knows exactly what Dean is doing. He doesn’t pull out this time, hand coming down against Dean’s skin immediately, and he doesn’t stop at five swats this time. Dean buries his face in the bedspread, moaning Castiel’s name into the fabric and gripping it with shaking hands and more smacks rain down on both sides of his ass. He feels the telltale tingle of an impending orgasm already, and he grins even as Castiel keeps spanking him.

 

“Your hands getting tired, Cas?” Dean goads. Castiel groans, pausing to drag his fingernails against Dean’s sore ass.

 

“I’m doing fine,” Castiel says, but he sounds a little strained. Dean wonders how close Castiel is.

 

“You gonna come, Cas? You getting all hot and bothered from slapping my ass raw?” Dean grins as Castiel moans and delivers another swat. “I can’t seem to keep my eyes open, damn,” Dean adds, fluttering his eyelashes at Castiel’s reflection before letting his eyes fall closed again. Castiel’s hand comes down again and again, and Dean’s ass is just one throbbing mess of pleasure. He can feel his toes curling again, his balls tightening, he’s so fucking close--

 

“Come, Dean,” Castiel growls, and that’s all it takes before Dean is coming with a broken sob onto the side of the bed. He opens his eyes, locking gazes with Castiel in the mirror. Castiel looks absolutely wrecked, staring at him in awe. He manages a few more teeth-rattling thrusts before he’s coming too, fingers digging painfully hard into Dean’s hips and forcing a few post-orgasmic aftershocks to run through Dean’s body.

 

After a minute of panting against Dean’s back, Castiel pulls himself out, and Dean winces. Now that the adrenaline has worn off the pain in his ass is a little less fun.

 

“Fuck,” Dean groans, getting to his feet, “I guess I’ll be sleeping on my stomach tonight.” Castiel bites his lower lip, looking sheepishly at the floor as he stands up.

 

“I got lost in the moment, I apologize,” Castiel mumbles. Dean chuckles, pulling Castiel close and kissing him chastely on the lips.

 

“Did I say I was mad?” Dean teases. Castiel looks up at him, a small smile on his red face.

 

“Still, I suspect you will be very sore,” Castiel says. Dean just gives him another peck on the mouth.

 

“Yep,” Dean says with a shrug, “and I’m sure I’ll be even more sore when we try this out with a belt.”

 


End file.
